This lovely month of May

The wonder of buds opening and fresh new leaves shooting out is still an absolute wonder each year. Always, ALWAYS, it seems like it’s eventually happening just too fast and I end up feeling like I’ve somehow missed something. For days and weeks the spring hangs in the air and and the buds seem to be swelling just a little with a speed agonizingly slow. And then, the next minute you know it’s fresh new greenery everywhere and the leaves seem to be getting bigger by the minute and lawn mowers are out and only moments later you realise that the thing that just hit your nostrils, tugging on some pleasant memories and creating odd sensations, was the smell of freshly cut grass – first time this spring.

The spring, is also about (splitting) and piling firewood to dry over the summer for the next winter:

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And occasionally it may happen that your friends have really great ideas for birthday celebration. I absolutely love sunday birthday parties that begin early, take place somewhere in the wilderness and include pancakes baked on a tiny portable gas stove, fresh coffee brewed in a proper coffee press and a real bonfire – among other things. Here’s one with my teacup waiting on the bench.

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The forest was littered with millions of flowers – hepatica nobilis or liverleaf:

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and beautiful Pulsatilla Patens or Eastern pasqueflower to name a few:

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The views were glorious as was our hike as we had packed with the plan of camping straight next to the car. In reality, as it appeared, the camping/fire building sites were some 3 kilometres from the parking lot. So we went, carrying pots and kettles, a full litre of milk to lighten some coffees, selection of 3-4 different kinds of jams in case people had different preferences for their pancakes, a small portable grill, etc. Reminded me of the time when in the TV series “The Persuaders!”, where Lord Sinclaire’s idea of camping included a pavilion, proper china, table and chairs, etc. while Danny had nothing but a sleeping bag. Of course, there is also an entire tradition of clamping, with a special new word coined for it and all. Not sure if we really qualified for that, though – after all, we had forgotten to bring the honey, 3 litre bottle of apple juice and there were no blankets and pillows available…

-Maarja